A Lack Of Color
by the object lesson
Summary: It won't last, will it? No one ever does. A drunken moment between two abandoned souls is rarely ever more. Watch for implications to get the full affect. RLGW oneshot review please.


_A/N Fuck fuck fuck…Remus/Ginny… lets see… oh dear I've never even TRIED this before… fuck…Ahh right ok sorry about that little profane tirade there... This is what happens when you ask someone to pick a pairing for you instead of thinking up something yourself. Not that I object, its just different to write it. Please review!_

_Lack of Color_

Fire Whiskey was good. Didn't taste good, but that wasn't the point. It _was _good. Remus stared into the bottom of the murky glass. Even in his mildly drunken stupor, he wondered how long ago it was last cleaned. A very long time ago if the dust in number 12 Grimmauld place was anything to go by. He felt a bit sick with this thought, but took another large sip of the amber liquid to quell the notion. Fuck dirt, he needed a drink. Another drink that is. The fire lived up to its name, burning his already sore throat the entire way down, and leaving a comfortable warm pain in his stomach. Anything was more comfortable than being sober at this point.

"Well what a sad sight, the great Remus J. Lupin, reduced to the pathetic mess I now see before me," a light voice broke through the haze. He raised his head (it had been on the table? When did that happen?) to see the outline of a woman come into focus. A woman with long bright red hair.

"Ginny. What are you doing up?" He raised his head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. She smirked, walking to a cabinet.

"Couldn't sleep. Neither could you, I take it." She had her own glass now, and sat across from him.

"No. No sleep." The room was a bit blurry, and spinning. Ought to get that fixed.

She took the tall bottle from his hand and poured an inch into the bottom of her glass.

"You know Remus, drinking is a bad habit." She took a small sip and smiled.

"I know," he took another sip, a bit more refined though his hand seemed unattached from his wrist, "Good thing neither of us drinking."

She laughed. It was a pearly, sparkly laugh. Like tiny bells ringing. Or something. Another sip.

"So why're you hitting the bottle at such an hour. Drinking alone is a sure sign of-"

"Addiction, I know. Good thing I don't drink alone." He smirked at her. Or hoped it was a smirk. His mouth didn't seem attached so well either.

"Of course not. Me neither." Ginny took a larger sip. A gulp. She choked a bit, but smiled. "Good shit."

"Good company," he smiled. The pain was numb now. Comfortable numbness. Ginny smiled, "Seriously, Remus, what're you doing here, drinking yourself away in the dark?"

He took another sip and she frowned. Whipping out her wand, she waved it quickly and his drunken haze cleared. It was replaced with a throbbing headache. He groaned, letting his head drop to the table. Suddenly, he felt like a small boy, caught in a bluff with no way out.

"Fuck, Ginny, why did you have to do that?" he groaned into the rough wood table. There was a thin indent by his noise. Where the knife had almost stabbed Sirius through the hand. So long ago… his hand had been right here.

He raised his head slightly to see her stand and come to sit next to him.

"Remus, I know what this is like. He was your best friend. Your only friend at times. But you can't do this to yourself. He wouldn't want-"

"How do you know? You're just a little girl." He meant it to come out mean and biting. She shouldn't be talking about Sirius. He didn't want to talk about it right now. He wanted to be drunk out of his mind, passed out on his bed. But it didn't sound mean at all. It sounded desperate, like he truly could not comprehend how she could know so much and be so inexperienced at the same time. Ginny smiled, placing her hand over his.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Remus. I know what its like to lose someone you care about. Sure, my case was a bit different, but the loss felt the same."

He sat up, pulling his hand gently from hers.

"I'm a mess, aren't I?"

She laughed, "Yes. Yes you are. I can just hear Sirius now, 'You can only get pissed if you've got someone else to get pissed with."

Remus raised his eyebrows at her, "You toned that one down a bit."

"Yes, well," she smiled, "I've got to preserve my little girl image for you right?"

"Why bother, as I already see you hold your liquor well."

"Well I know how to feel loss, and that means I know how to get entirely floored on a good bottle of Fire Whiskey."

"I should tell your mother."

"Please don't!"

Remus smirked at her. The candle on the table was getting lower, and he could see the firelight glinting off her hair. She reminded him of someone, someone he had tried to forget out of shame and cowardess, but that wasn't what sparked his curiosity this time. In her own way, she intrigued him.

"Give me one good reason."

She frowned, glaring at him. She was really quite beautiful. It might've just taken a moment of weak defenses for him to let himself realize it, but she was in many ways perfect. In the dark candle light, she looked slightly older, more mature. Not an excuse, Moony, he told himself. He kept looking.

"Remus, do not say anything to her. What do I have to do to shut you up?"

He thought over it, "Give me back my bottle. And say the rest of Sirius' phrase for me. I want to hear it from you."

Ginny grinned. "You can't have this bottle. There's only enough left for one glass. But I will say it, fair enough?"

He nodded. She smiled, "You can only get pissed if you've got someone else to get pissed with, and a warm but unfamiliar bed to wake up to."

Remus laughed, "And too true it is." She grinned, staring at him. He stopped laughing. Her grinned faded. Then very slowly, she raised the bottle and poured the rest of it into her glass.

"Here's to getting piss drunk," she whispered. She took a gulp, and handed the almost empty glass to him. Remus took it, staring at her, and drained the last of the toxin into his eagerly burning throat. Beautiful lack of consequence.

The moonlight streamed in through the top floor window. The window was cracked and a light breeze streamed in, ruffling the grey curtains. His sheets were rough, but his skin was smooth against her back and the hand on her stomach was soft. The lips against her neck were soothing.

"It's good to feel again," he whispered, running his hand up to her ribs. She turned to face him, running her fingers lightly across his chest .

"I know." She kissed him, ran her hands up to his hair, smiled down at his closed eyes.

"It won't last, will it?"

"No one ever does."

_objectlesson_


End file.
